


When Here

by HerGambitandSwanSong



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alex Has Anxiety (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex-centric (Julie and The Phantoms), Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Character Study, Comfort Reading, Coming of Age, Gen, Hitchhiking, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerGambitandSwanSong/pseuds/HerGambitandSwanSong
Summary: Change is a rusty gas station where the pumps are more moss then metal.Alex hadn't known that till now. He also didn't know how to live.(A roadtrip AU where instead of leaving home, he's trying to find his way back and not die for the second time in the process)
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54





	When Here

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a one-shot but fuck, I wrote this shit while reminiscing about the road trip I took with my friend last summer. I am very much like Alex in the sense that I can't handle change for shit and worry constantly. She helped me let that worry go for those few beautiful days and I really appreciate that. 
> 
> Also lowkey, it should be Alex Peters and Reggie Mercer. The names sound like they came out of Queen, y'know with the the John Deacons, Brian Mays, Roger Taylors, Freddie Mercurys etc... regardless, I dig their surnames. But Mercer? Which writer wrote that into canon and how much of a Matt Mercer fan are they? you aren't tricking anyone u nerdy babe.

Change is a rusty gas station where the pumps are more moss then metal.  
  
Call Alex an naïve teen but he didn't know this until now. He thought he had life under his belt, having quite literally gone through it into a new frightening stage of existence: death.  
  
Because as much as he ruminated on many things in life, he liked to think that he'd reached his peak in odd situations. After all being a ghost that was tangible only during performance was a fairly niche situation.  
  
And yet as he peeled his eyes open, blinding light flooding in with a barge of an unusual odor of lumbar and gas, Alex realized he had severely underestimated the world and what it seemingly enjoyed throwing at him.  
  
Alex looked around in groggy confusion, squinting as if to confirm the scenery around him.  
  
Trees, a dusty payphone, a single stretch of road, and a gas station that looked one bad day from closing down was his new home apparently. Gone were the strange hanging chairs, the instruments littered around, and the creaky floorboards of the garage studio. Understandably, lost to him was the reason why he was in the middle of nowhere.  
  
"What the...?" He breathed as he staggered to his feet. Slowly he walked to the gas station building, entering the open doors, mind still rattled with wonder and slow building concern.  
  
The clerk, a brunette with shaggy hair maybe a few years older then Alex was on his phone, tapping at the screen rapidly as he entered.  
  
Use to the one way relationship with the living nowadays, Alex didn't bother paying attention as he shuffled over to a rack of newspapers beside the lotto.  
  
"Can I help you?" The clerk said from behind. There had been a large truck parked outside, no doubt the driver coming to pay.  
  
Alex peered closer to the newspapers, catching sight of the date. He breathed a sigh of relief, at the tiny front of 2020 sitting at the top of the paper. So no time travel had happened thankfully. Alex didn't think he could handle it if it had. He must have just jumped to this place by mistake and passed out from exertion then.  
  
As he clenched his fists, tensing his body to jump, the snap of fingers snatched him from completion.  
  
"Kid, are you going to buy something?" The clerk spoke, tone increasingly drier and irritated then before.  
  
Something akin to denial underlined by a lingering no he couldn't be, pooled in his stomach. Slowly, Alex turned like a deer caught in the headlights, staring owlishly at the clerk.  
  
The clerk was staring with tired, half lidded eyes at him. At Alex- directly at Alex. Not to his side, not through him or passed him- at him.  
  
A lump formed in his throat as he croaked, "You can see me?"  
  
"Yeah," The clerk drawled unimpressed. "Last I checked."  
  
It was at that moment that his heart began to pound and he realized change was a rusty gas station.  
  
"You going to buy something?" The guy repeated, and Alex swallowed the bile in his throat, attempting to snap out of the ever growing anxiety.  
  
"No- uh, I... where are we?"  
  
The clerk pulled a face. "Washington."  
  
"DC?" Alex echoed, voice rising an octave. He felt lightheaded. Oh god, was he going to faint in a random gas station in Washington?  
  
"No, state."  
  
That still didn't ease the anxiety growing like a storm in him. Alex nodded. "I'm in Washington." He mumbled through trance-like daze. Silence spread thin between the two until:  
  
"I'd you're not going to buy anything..."  
  
"Yeah, right." Alex said quickly. "I'll leave."  
  
He shot for the door but stopped abruptly, sneakers squeaking hard against the tile as an idea filled his head.  
  
"Uh, do you actually have a quarter I could steal?" Alex asked pleadingly. "I need to use the payphone outside."  
  
The clerk looked him up and down, scanning him. He must have thought Alex in all his fanny pack, pink hoodie, and surfer blond hair was the definition of unthreatening and pitiful as he pulled a quarter from the cash, tossing it over.  
  
Alex caught it, cupping it like the holy grail. "Thank you so much."  
  
He booked it out, only clipping the doorframe partially with a thud. If he was alive- or in some tangible inbetween then he couldn't be walking into walls like before. It was sort of a bummer really. He just had started to enjoyed the convenience and sensation of walking through things.  
  
Rubbing the shoulder he had clipped sorely, Alex slipped the quarter into the payphone, dialing the sequence of Julie's phone.  
  
The boys had called him lame and overly cautious for memorizing her number, stating that they didn't need to call her when they could just jump and talk to her directly. It was also the matter that they couldn't use phones but Alex digressed. He always knew that being prepared was the best way to avoid unwanted situations, and if memorizing Julie's phone number was stupid, then he was the smartest idiot in the world.  
  
On the other end the tone rang, and anxiousness became to fill his stomach once more. What if she didn't pick up? What if she was busy and missed the call. Then he'd be stuck in the middle of nowhere and they would just have assumed he was twice-dead or even worse, that he had left the band.  
  
The tone rang a fourth time before-  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Alex was so relieved he could cry. "Julie! Thank God!"  
  
There was a pause on the other end of the line until, "Alex?" Julie breathed in confusion, her tone morphing into realization quickly. "We've been looking everywhere for you! We thought something happened!"  
  
"From the looks of it something did."  
  
"Wait hold up, how are you on the phone?" Julie asked in bewilderment.  
  
"That's the thing I don't know! I mean I woke up in a random gas station in Washington and I thought I had just jumped by accident but the clerk could see me and I hit the door on the way out and I'm somehow talking on the phone with you and oh God, I don't know what to do Ju-"  
  
"-Alex!" She exclaimed and he shut up abruptly. "You gotta take a deep breath and calm down."  
  
"I can't." His breathing was everywhere. An erratic mess of shallow inhales and poor self control. "I'm not good with this stuff, the guys are the ones that handle the bad situations well, not me."  
  
There was silence on the other side and for a second he feared they had lost connection.  
  
"Can you hear them?" Julie asked.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The guys." And Alex's heart sank. He couldn't even hear his best friends anymore. Whatever he had gotta himself into, it was a complete mess that he'd pay anything to get out. Ever the intuitive girl, Julie must have took his silence as an answer as she spoke softly, "They're telling you to snap outta it and that you've got this."  
  
Alex let out a shaky breathe. He owed it to the boys to try. "Okay." He said weakly. "What do I do."  
  
"First we gotta figure out what happened and get you home."  
  
Thinking for a moment, the image of a manipulative magical performer crossed his mind. "Caleb could have done this. Maybe he shot me here somehow."  
  
"In that case he's planning something so we've gotten stay on the lookout." Julie thought out loud. "Aside from Washington, do you know where you are?"  
  
Alex looked around, twisting the phone cord. Unless he knew how to recognize the specific trees of certain regions and counties he was fresh outta luck. "No."  
  
"That's okay." She said. "This is going to sound crazy, so don't panic Alex but you're going to need to find a way to get home."  
  
And those were the words he had been dreading to hear. The ones he was scared of hearing because of the subsequent challenge and stress they presented.  
  
" _Julie_ , how am I going to get to California." He stressed, pressing the phone harder against his face. "That's another two states over and I have nothing on me but an inhaler and a concert ticket from 1995. Can't you get your dad or aunt to come?"  
  
"What do I tell them? That I just need a lift to some gas station in Washington to pick up a guy they've never seen before? You know how that sounds."  
  
He knew Julie was right and that her family would never do such an absurd request without questions but some childlike force inside of him just wanted to whine until she agreed.   
  
"Uh I think some people hitchhike?" Julie offered weakly.  
  
He sputtered in disbelief. "Have you not heard of an entire decade of people murdering hitchhikers? I don't want to die!"  
  
"It's the 2000's maybe things have changed. Reggie says people are nicer now then they were bef-"  
  
Julie's soft, encouraging voice was replaced abruptly by the monotone drawl of another lady. "-Your minutes are up, please insert another coin if you wish to continue."  
  
Panic flooded Alex. " _Nonono_ I don't have another coin!" He exclaimed, frantically mashing his finger against the ejector and sticking his fingers into the coin slot in desperation. When nothing came, Alex slammed the phone back onto its hook sinking to the floor with shaking hands.  
  
He was royally fucked. There was no way in hell he was going to hitchhike across two states and survive. He couldn't even make it passed 17 before his ultimate demise to a hotdog cooked with battery acid of all things. If a combo of cholesterol and chemical killed him how the hell was multiple strangers, no money and no up to date knowledge of the world any easier?  
  
He hadn't experienced panic like this in so long, and he had foolishly forgotten that there was no good feeling that came with the deep rooted- suffocating sensation.   
  
With shaking fingers he unzipped his fanny pack, clutching his inhaler like a life preserver. A click and two puffs later, Alex's head was still buzzing but at least he could breath.  
  
If he wanted to get home, he had to focus and stop ruminating. Sure he wasn't as brave as Luke or as open to experience as Reggie, but Alex had fragments of them. He could work with what he had.  
  
A shadow fell over Alex whilst deep in thought. The blonde looked up, squinting from the sun before the figure.  
  
"You alright kid?"  
  
His body instantly tensed at the presence of a burly looking man in front of him. Screw what he had said before, with his luck there was no way in hell he was even getting off the gas station property. In a couple seconds he was probably going to be dragged away and mauled by a stranger who coincidently had a thing for anxious blondes. Unable to form a coherent sentence, Alex nodded wordlessly.  
  
"I overheard your conversation. If you need a ride I'm headed into Oregon, though I won't be able to take you all the way." The man explained. "Figured it would at least get you halfway."  
  
Alex blinked dumbfounded. Was he hearing this right?  
  
"Pardon?" He croaked.  
  
"I can get you to Oregon if you want. It's no trouble."  
  
Alex smiled stiffly, looking the guy up and down. "No it's alright, my friend is going to pick me up but thank you."  
  
The man looked skeptical, and he jabbed his finger towards the large transport truck parked off to the side of the gas station. "You sure?  
  
"Yeah, definitely."  
  
"Alright boss." The man shrugged, before tipping his hand in a short farewell wave and turning on his heel.  
  
Alex watched the man walk to his truck, climbing into the large mechanical beast. He watched as the truck started up, its engine blaring and a sudden sense of urgency flooded over him. Like he was watching the last rowboat float away from a sinking ship he sat on.  
  
Without thinking Alex shot to his feet kicking up gravel and sprinted over to the front of the rumbling truck, his hands raised.  
"Wait! I changed my mind!" He hollered.  
  
The passenger door on top of the truck popped open.  
  
Alex climbed in.  
  


* * *

  
  
Against everything he has ever stood for in life, Alex sat unmoving, stiff as a board in the passenger seat of a truck. A twenty sided die swayed side to side from the mirror and the radio was playing a country song that grew staticky every mile or so. If Reggie were here he'd be hollering along to the lyrics, most likely busting out his air-banjo for flare. Luke would be in the back joining in, unable to resist the sonorant spell music placed on him and Alex would be smiling as he drove, content and comfortable.  
  
That dream felt so far away now.  
  
"So," The truck driver started. "Where you headed?"  
  
Alex didn't want to be rude, but he also needed to air on the side of caution. "Home."  
  
The trucker nodded along. "And can I ask what you're doing so far away alone?"  
  
"Uh, I'm not too sure honestly."  
  
"Fair." The trucker said, content despite the limitations of Alex's answers. "Stuff happens."  
  
Alex scoffed to himself. Ain't that right.  
  
The trucker looked quickly at Alex as if a daunting realization had hit him suddenly. "Your parents aren't worried though? I mean cause the last thing I want is a bunch of parents thinking I kidnapped a kid."  
  
"Oh no I don't live with my parents anymore. You aren't going to kidnap me... right?" Alex added the last bit weakly.  
  
A light chuckle escaped the man and he shook his head. "Hell no."  
  
The conversation died out and Alex found himself looking out the window. Miles of trees and rocks stretched out like oceans flew by him in blurs of earthy tones. It was a pleasant sight to say the least. Before his death Alex had never been outside of California. So in a way this was his first time seeing America at its roots. Just miles of roads and seas of trees.  
  
"You mind if I switch the station?" The trucker asked, snapping Alex away from his muse. It was no issue and Alex let him know.  
  
Soon the cabin of the truck was filled with the steady beat of drums progressively with each pound growing louder and quicker. A mashup of electrics guitars began to strum until one struck a sharp blaring chord that silenced the rest.  
  
Alex found his shoulders relaxing, his bobbing leg slowly ceasing. His fingers began to strum his thighs defy in rhythm, the internal counter embedded within him counting along with the beats of the song. "You like rock?" Alex asked.  
  
The man scoffed, "Of course, who doesn't?"  
  
Interest bubbled and drumming fingers grasped it tightly. A smile grew on Alex, "What's your favorite band?"  
  
"Oh definitely Steppenwolf."  
  
"Dude, no way, I saw them live in '93." He remembered the night well, the boys had gone to their favorite burger joint beforehand, soaking in the grease and sugary soda to start the night right. Reggie had worn the band's tee he had gotten from the mail after a raffle insisting that it would bring them good luck and good vibes. Funny enough, that very same shirt would be covered in a disgusting combo of sweat and vomit by the end of the night. However, admittedly it did deliver on its promise of good vibes.  
  
"What?" The truck said in confusion, snapping Alex out of his reminiscing like a bull whip.  
  
"Sorry- I mean- I saw a... video of their live 1993 performance in California." He sputtered, cringing at the pitiful improvisation. "It looked cool."  
  
"Oh it was," The trucker hummed dreamily, as if recalling it from memory. Alex pulled a face akin to disbelief.  
  
"You were there?"  
  
"Sure was." The trucker stated, and Alex's mind began to rattle like a brick in a washing machine. He had been at the same Steppenwolf concert as the grown man he sat beside. Had they passed each other during the performance? What if Alex had seen him at the concert and didn't remember- what if the man he seen him? What if they were jamming out to the band only a few meters away from each other.  
  
Thoughts and questions pooled inside Alex's head till he could barely think straight.  
  
"H-how old were you?" Alex stumbled.  
  
The trucker furrowed his brows in thought. "Late teens probably."  
  
Reality felt as though it was slipping from Alex's grasp. His brain rattled with incomprehensible thoughts.  
  
"Cool," He croaked, nodding absently. The trucker spared a glance at him.  
  
"You alright?" He asked with a frown. "You're looking a little flushed."  
  
Alex nodded dazed, twirling his hand around in a circle. "Yeah, just deja vu."  
  
"Well there's water in the side compartment if you need. It'll be a couple hours before we hit Oregon so take a rest if you can."  
  
Alex nodded once more, tapped out of any ability to perform anything remotely cognitive. Instead, he rested his head against the headrest, turning back towards the window.  
  
He didn't know how long he stared out it, but he knew the rest of the drive was spent internally recalling every detail of the 1993 Steppenwolf he could remember.  
  


* * *

  
  
In Oregon, the trucker dropped him off at a town just halfway to California. Alex had said his thanks and the trucker had wished him luck, getting back into the mechanical beast he called a truck and drove off.  
  
For twenty minutes Alex wandered aimlessly throughout the town. He didn't exactly know what he was going to do next or how to start. The trucker had been a blessing in disguise, a serendipitous coincidence that propelled Alex forward. However, now he was on his own. Results wouldn't be handled to him on a gold platter anymore, he had to go out and get them.  
  
He hated that.  
  
So Alex reluctantly did what any hitchhiker in any movie would do. He stuck his thumb up and out on the side of a road and waited.  
  
Many cars drove by- more then he could keep track- and with each one his anxiety and fear grew stronger in his stomach, reaffirming the stupidity and danger of the idea.  
  
But he waited, and waited, trying his hardest to push down the anxiety that sat heavy in his stomach.  
  
Just as he was about to give up, a white car pulled to the side of the road just a few meters in front of him.  
  
Cautiously, Alex walked over to it, leaning closer to the front passenger side.  
  
A young girl with black hair grinned up at him from the other side of the window, beside her in the driver seat a brunette, carrying a cautious but firm expression that furrowed in her brows. She looked to be examining Alex, taking in his appearance and making quick assumptions. The girl with black hair didn't seemed to be doing the same. Rolling down the window, she thrusted her hand out.  
  
"Hey, you need a ride?" She asked.  
  
"I'm headed to California."  
  
"Ah sweet dude, so are we."  
  
Alex met the stern eyes of the driver, shrinking a little under her calculated gaze. He got the feeling she wasn't as welcoming as her counterpart. After another quick up and down, the driver nodded as of coming to a conclusion.  
  
"Get in," She said, and Alex obliged, getting into the back seat quickly. The last thing he wanted for the girl to change her mind and drive off.  
  
"I'm Erin," The driver introduced. She looked well put together, more studious and situationally aware then the other. Jabbing a finger at the passenger she continued. "This is Em."  
  
"Alex... hey aren't you worried I could be a killer or something?" Alex asked bluntly, eyeing the two girls. They only looked a few years older then himself. He couldn't imagine hitchhiking being safe for himself let alone two girls.  
  
"Yeah, a little." Erin admitted as she pulled back onto the road.  
  
"Nah dude, you're cool." The raven haired girl laughed lightheartedly. Whereas the brunette only had several tattoos, the other girls had much more, as well as the additional onslaught of piercings in her ears, nose and mouth. It was a strange sight the two girls highly contrasting in appearance and personality yet meshing so well together.  
  
"It was on our roadtrip list, and Em's been very insistent on sticking with it." The brunette driving explained, her eyes never leaving the road.  
  
Alex frowned. He hoped their list didn't involve any weird unfortunate things for himself. "Roadtrip list?"  
  
"Yeah, like shit you wanna do on a roadtrip, it's pretty self explanatory." Em explained, pulling out the packaged egg from the gas-to-go-meal. She rolled the window down and chucked the egg out, its shape turning into a tiny blurred wipe as it flew behind them. Em smacked Erin's arm,  
  
"Hey, it didn't hit the car like last time." She noted with a hint of pride.  
  
"Yeah but we still have a ham stain on the side and bears love that stuff." Erin argued, before sparing a glance back at Alex. "Does the west coast have bears?"  
  
Alex blinked, "Uh maybe? I don't really know."  
  
"Let's hope not. We're from Canada so pretty much bears are everywhere. When we aren't driving through the night we've been camping at national parks overnight cause it's cheaper then motels."  
  
"Last campsite we stayed at was wack and I was hungry." Em said, plucking a grape into her mouth.  
  
"You were high and you drank nonpottable water." Erin stated, and Alex could sense the dynamic between the two as a version of a very similar dynamic he had with the guys. The overly protective and a little exhausted friend constantly worrying about the antics of the more wild, unpredictable friend who most often acted before thinking. He could remember experiences where Luke and Reggie had him halfway to a heart attack doing dumb things or getting into fights for no reason at all. They were lovable idiots but the stress they graced him with often left Alex feeling twenty years older.  
  
His throat felt thick with emotion, and the thought of the boys sent tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. What if he got back to LA and he couldn't see them. How would he talk to them? Only during performance? That was limited and impractical. Besides when he was a ghost with the boys they all lived in the garage, but how could he do that now? It was easy to hide a bunch of ghosts in a garage, but a fully tangible teenage boy that needed food to survive? That was too much to ask of Julie.  
  
He turned away from the girls, looking up at the car ceiling and blinking back the tears.  
  
"Uh..." Alex mumbled attempting to distract himself from the thought. "What's on your roadtrip list?"  
  
"Y'know stuff like stop at random sights along the way, go to the grossest diners we can find, pick a hitchhiker up- preapproved by Erin first," Em added the end earning a nod of approval by the brunette. "And use a coin wash."  
  
"Why a coin wash?" Alex croaked, swallowing the thick in his throat.  
  
"Well haven't you ever just wanted to strip to your boxers and sit in a coin wash with your stuff in a town where nobody knows you?"  
  
"Can't say I have. Why would I?"  
  
"The freedom? The anonymity freeing you from consequence? The power that seems so insignificant and meaningless but so nice at the same time? Sure it's a coin wash but you're half naked in a place that isn't your bedroom and that feels fucking great."  
  
"Ignore Em," Erin said, rolling her eyes in amusement. "She just likes breaking rules."  
  
"That too, but still. The point is, is that my dumbass is a high school dropout, and she's graduating university next year. Who gives a fuck what you do or who you are at a coin wash. You're there and then you're not."   
  
Alex exhaled an airy breathe, shoulders slumping. These girls were insane.  
  
The front passenger seat rustled as Em began to move, rummaging through a backpack at her feet. She unzipped it open pulling out another much smaller bag. From it came a wallet which she opened and plucked a wad of bills from. Presenting the wad to Alex, she prompted it into his hands despite his protest. In his hands was a ten dollar bill and five one dollars.  
  
The raven haired girl smiled with an expression teetering on harmless lunacy. "Next coin wash you see go and strip. Be free my guy."  
  
"You don't have too." Erin added as the voice of reason from the driver seat. "But you do smell."  
  
"Thanks?" Alex said awkwardly, unsure of whether to accept the backhanded compliment or be offended.  
  
"Hey do you think raccoons are illegal to take over the border?"  
  
And for the most part, that was how the rest of the drive went. Alex could admit it was strange, but there was something nice about as well. A nice, safe chaotic.  
  
He never really had felt that before.  
  
Just passed the border between Oregon and California was where they separated. The girls were heading southeast to hit the Grand Canyon and unsurprisingly Area 51, whereas Alex would be headed to the coast.  
  
They had stopped at a small town and ate at a breakfast diner upon Erin's insistence.  
  
"All you ate in the car was the apples I packed, and while I do appreciate you eating the fruit that Em has refused to acknowledge, you need more than just that." She had explained as they parked at the diner.  
  
At first he had respectful denied the offer but the brunette in all her seemingly poised nature was just as unhinged as her counterpart, dragging him into the building by the strap of the fanny pack.  
  
They had ate, Em had offered to light the washroom on fire to avoid the bill, and Erin had smacked her upside the head in response. Alex didn't do much of the talking, just watching had been suffice enough. For a few moments he had found freedom from the impending worry of returning home.  
  
Realistically he knew that he was in the eye of the storm, but even sailors could appreciate the calmness masking the calamity at least.  
  
At the car, Erin approached Alex once more. "I know Em gave you some money but I still don't feel comfortable leaving you without anything. So here," She presented him with a woven bag filled with granola bars, soap, a water bottle and some spare change. "If you find a stick you'll look like a real hobo."  
  
Alex took the bag, clutching it tightly. He couldn't help but let out a short chuckle. "Thanks, you didn't have too."  
  
"It was on my list." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'd recommend making one."  
  
Alex waved goodbye as the girls drove off, the car rounding a building before vanishing.  
  
That was the end of them.  
  


* * *

  
  
Everything had been going great until he had fallen out of a moving car. At that moment every ounce of confidence or comfort Alex had developed from the trucker and the girls had been gutted from him.  
  
He was in the car of an older lady that had offered to drive him a few miles when his gut had churned and a sharp pain shot through him. The lady had been chatting nonstop and along with the intense rose smelling perfume that wafted the car Alex's head had begun to spin. He had chalked it up to a headache initially but now as he laid on the side of the road he doubted that was the case.  
  
The tumble had hurt but the shock had in a way lessened the ache that ran through his body.  
  
One second he had been sitting in the passenger seat, and the next he was watching himself fall down and out through the trunk of the car and passed the bumper.  
  
Pushing himself up off the concrete, Alex watched in disbelief as the car continued to drive away, oblivious to the absence of its passenger.  
  
A squeezing in his chest began to intensify and Alex looked to the other side of the road for incoming traffic desperately. If someone saw they could pull over and help him. He would get into the car and be driven back home where he belonged, safe and surrounded by people he knew and walls that never changed. No more strangers, no more being alone, no more change.  
  
However to his horror, the roads were empty, only trees surrounded the strip of road that ran miles and miles through nowhere.  
  
The squeeze in his chest grew, panic forming with each short breath that escaped him. His heart hammered against his chest, pleading desperately to escape the bony jail it was encased in.  
  
Alex planted his hands on the floor as if to steady himself, wide eyes taking notice of the dirt and redden scrapes that littered his arms.  
  
Hunched over, body aching with each wheezing breath that escaped him, Alex screamed. A chest deep concoction of terror and frustration that been building in Alex since the moment he opened his eyes in that dusty old gas station ripped through his throat, burning his lungs dry.  
  
His scream grew hoarse and he inhaled instinctively, hearing the rattling of deprived lungs through the pounding blood in his ears.  
  
"I can't-" He breathed. "- _I can't do this_."  
  
He pressed his forehead to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut. Who the hell was he kidding? It had been a mistake to think that he was anything like the other guys. He couldn't handle change like they could- couldn't deal with adversaries or issues with a lopsided grin and a positive outlook. He was a pessimist at heart and an anxious one at that. It was in his nature no matter the mask he had put up in desperate attempt to prove otherwise.  
  
Barely noticeable, a tug from the end of his hoodie snatched him from thought. Another tug, this time stronger and more assertive followed and Alex opened his eyes turning around.  
  
With an owlish expression, Alex watched as the dirt shifted, forming the lines of an H. After a second, the letter of an O appeared, followed by a T then D, O and finally G.  
  
The gears in Alex's brain turned and in a sudden moment of realization, a sob of relief escaped his lips. "Willie," He breathed, burying the balls of his hands into the sockets of his eyes and letting out an exhale of relief. "Willie, tell me that's you buddy."  
  
The dirt shifted, like someone was drawing in it, and a smiley face formed, as if silently reassuring Alex that his assumptions were correct.  
  
"Oh man," Alex dragged his hands through the dirt careful not to destroy his canvas for communication. "I'm so happy you're here. You don't understand how hard it's been."  
  
A frowny face was drawn and Alex folded himself into a sitting position, uncaring that any passerbys would see him crouched on the side of the road like a weirdo. Nobody was coming anyways, not on a road this deserted.  
  
"I can't see you," Alex explained sadly. He glanced at his dirty torn up hands, examining them carefully. "I don't know what happened but I phased through the car. It's like I'm in-between states?"  
  
He shut his eyes, clenching his fists in a similar fashion to how he did whenever he jumped. Peeking open his eyes, he was disappointed by the same sight of trees surrounding him.  
  
"I can't jump, but maybe the closer I get to home the more ghost I become?" He thought out loud. God, hearing it sounded crazy. However, given the circumstances it could be possible. He had finally crossed the border into California and given the rate of travel in the next day he would be home.  
  
As if to confirm his suspicions, the dirt drew a Y for yes.  
  
"Did Caleb do this to me?" Alex asked.  
  
Another Y appeared.  
  
"What for?"  
  
The dirt remained untouched and Alex began to sense the worst from the silence. Caleb had done this to him to separate him from Julie and the boys, but he had to have known that being reanimated meant the possibility of a second death had luck not aligned in Alex's favor...  
  
"...Oh." He mumbled darkly. "Did Caleb send you to watch me?"  
  
An N for no appeared, and Willie began to draw stick figures: two boys and a girl.  
  
Hope lit within Alex and his shoulders loosened. "Julie and the guys sent you?"  
  
Y.  
  
Alex leaned back to look up at the sky with a grin. God, he loved his bandmates. "If you go back, tell them I'm almost home. I'm in California now."  
  
The Y was circled.  
  
Slowly, and with a grunt of agony, Alex peeled himself off the dirt floor, grabbing the woven bag from Erin. He held it loosely between his fingers, the throbbing across his body like the ticks on a clock: consistent and slowly but surely sapping him of energy.  
  
It seemed like everything was finally hitting him at once: the lack of sleep and water, the insistent pain slowly morphing into a dull ache, the emotional exhaustion from everything that had happened in the past day. It was all too much for a body that had previously been 25 years deceased.  
  
"I know you have a skateboard, but can you walk with me." Alex mumbled, looking nowhere in specific. He began to trudge in the direction the car had gone, half open eyelids boring heavy on him with each step.  
  
Even though he couldn't see Willie, something told him that his friend walked with him the whole way.  
  


* * *

  
  
"How much for a ticket to LA?"  
  
The kiosk lady looked Alex up and down with a raised brow. She scanned the wad of cash placed on the counter with critical eyes, counting without touching. Alex attempted the most innocent smile he could muster, but the ache in his body left it looking rather dopey.  
  
The cash was accepted and a small ticket stub dispensed itself out of the machine. Alex pinched it, having unsuccessfully grabbed it the first time with ghostly hands and waved it slightly at the lady in thanks. She paid no mind to him.  
  
He shuffled to the end of a bench, away from scattered few people and sat down with a grunt. It was getting harder to grab things or stay solid. It felt as though someone was playing with the on-off switch of his tangibility, switching it back and forth like a madman without his control.  
  
"Bus should come in 10 minutes." He said quietly to none alive in particular. He just hoped Willie had stuck around. The company while limited and quite one sided still provided Alex with just enough familiarity to remain sane.  
  
Opening up the bag, the soap caught his interest. It had been grinded down, and a chunk had been ripped off it in the tumble through the car but overall it was still usable.  
  
Alex glanced at the station's clock, making mental note of the time before he got back up and headed towards the washroom.  
  
Nobody was in the men's washroom thankfully, and Alex set his bag down on the counter wetting the soap bar.  
  
Pushing up his sleeves he ran the cold water down his arms, hissing lowly at the brief sharp pains whenever he put too much pressure on a cut or bruise. He slathered the soap up and down his arms, the suds on his hands turning brown from the dirt in one swipe.  
  
It was a fairly superficial clean and Alex still felt like he had bathed in a pit of soil but the soft smell of mint and the return of smoothness in his skin helped appear like an improvement.  
  
He went to go repeat the process for his face and neck, but as he looked up at the mirror he froze in his tracks.  
  
If the boys could see him they'd wince. Alex was a kid that prided himself in being maintained and under complete control of himself. He never dressed like a slob and always he kept his appearance up. It wasn't for ego per say, more just a degree of control he always knew he'd have; even if everything around or inside him had gone to shit, he at least knew that his appearance didn't reflect it.  
  
But now he looked like a distorted version of that once tidy kid.  
  
His hair, once an immaculate blond was matted and dulled by the layer of dust and grease in his hair. Similarly, his face had patchy smudges of dirt mixed matched in between the layer of oil his skin had sweated up during the mile long trek. His lips were chapped with a small scabbed over cut where he had bitten down too hard in the tumble. The bags under his blue eyes were a prominent purple, the discoloration only extenuating the hollowness that gave him a sickly, exhausted appearance.  
  
The kid in front of him looked haunted and tired, torn apart and terrified.  
  
God, he looked better when he was dead.  
  
Letting the feelings of the sight morph into resignation, Alex went to work on his face. In circular motions he rubbed in the soap till he was sure it had sunken into his pores before bending over the sink and splashing water against his face.  
  
The cold water was a welcoming sensation, cooling skin which radiated warmth like the sun. Its grasp had managed to pull a brief alertness back through the thick fog of drowsiness, waking Alex up slightly.  
  
He grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, blotting it over his face tenderly.  
  
When he was relatively satisfied, he threw the paper away and trekked back to his seat. Hunching over and cradling the side of his ribs with his hands, Alex closed his eyes for a brief moment of nothingness. A breath escaped his lips and he inhaled through this nose, then back out his mouth.  
  
He repeated it until the telecom buzzed to life and the static voice of a lady echoed through the waiting room signaling for the arrival of the LA bus.  
  
Alex boarded with little issue aside from the grimace the bus driver shot at him as he passed. He couldn't blame the man, a dirty, smelly teenager with tattered clothes was not someone he'd want on his bus either.  
  
To his relief there was only a handful of people loaded onto the bus, the majority sitting in pairs at the back. Alex picked an aisle somewhere in the middle, away from anyone and hunkered down by the window readying up for the long trip.  
  
He scrubbed his hand down his face, resting his head against the headrest with a sigh. His hands flickered -to his morbid fascination- in and out of tangibility like a lightbulb that needed a simple tighten.  
  
Examining them, he twisted his wrists, articulating each finger individually to test its tangibility through the seat in front.  
  
He was almost shoulder deep into the seat as a lady shuffled passed in the aisle. Before she could stop and turn, taking notice of the oddity in her peripheral, he quickly retracted his arms, shoving them into his hoodie pocket.  
  
The lady's eyes travelled from the seat to Alex, a raised brow pointed towards him as if trying to decipher if her eyes had played a trick on her.  
  
"Hi," Alex smiled sheepishly, offering a short wave. The wave was friendly, brief and entirely solid. "Nice day, huh?"  
  
Her skeptical eyes focused on his hand, glossing quickly over his smile. After a moment, she nodded silently, continuing her shuffle to the back of the bus, a small shake of her head as she moved.  
  
Alex grinned to himself. He wasn't all goodie-two-shoes.  
  
On the seat next to him where he had placed his rucksack, the bag began to move, lifting up into the air and plopping down at his feet.  
  
He didn't need to question it. Just the presence was enough to know.  
  
"Thanks for the company, Willie. Did you tell the band where I am?" Alex said quietly. After a moment, he dumbly realized the limitations of communication between the two, adding quickly, "One knock for yes, two for no."  
  
There was a knock akin to someone stamping their feet and Alex nodded. There was some relief in knowing that Julie and the boys at least knew he was getting closer. The last thing he wanted to do was make them worry, and with everything going on he was almost positive they were regardless.  
  
"I can't wait to get home."  
  
Two stomps made Alex frown in confusion.  
  
"No? What do you mean no? I shouldn't be glad to go home?"  
  
Another two stomps, Alex's frown deepening.  
  
"I should be glad to go home but I shouldn't be also?" He tried again, earning a single stomp in approval. "Do you mean I should be happy about this situation?"  
  
Three stomps- which wasn't in the rules they had laid out but Alex was intuitive enough to assume it meant yes and no- a maybe. He got the feeling that Willie was trying to say that he should appreciate the experience- to value the good that came out of it.  
  
Unfortunately for Alex, he didn't carry the same love for adventure and freedom Willie did. He wasn't a skater that rode through empty halls of art galleries nor was he a go-with-the-flow type of guy when it came to handling change. Alex very much enjoyed the static, uneventful lifestyle he had built for himself, and didn't find appreciation in the sporadic. He couldn't no matter how hard he tried, because it always ended with worry consuming his every waking thought.  
  
"This is one messed up roadtrip, Willie." Alex pointed out with a frown. "It's sort of hard to appreciate the 'good stuff' when your life is on the line."  
  
One stomp followed by two more.  
  
He could just imagine Willie's slick hopefully grin beaming up at him. A light twinkling in his eyes just screaming 'give it a try'.  
  
Despite the silence, Alex smiled softly, bobbing his head. "If it makes you happy, I'll try."  
  


* * *

  
  
After several hours of a cramped seat space, severe boredom, and a body that was beginning to flicker in and out of existence more rapidly, the bus finally stopped at its destination.  
  
Willie had left roughly halfway through the ride, reassured by Alex that the next time they'd meet he would see him. The closer he got to Julie's house the more ghost he seemed to become, and as he was at an LA bus terminal that promise seemed like it would deliver quite soon.   
  
Once all the passengers were off, Alex all but ran off, barely holding onto the thin grasp of control in tangibility he had. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the car incident or god forbid him falling through the bus into its oil container.  
  
His body ached from the confides of the bus, only exacerbated by the tumble prior. Maybe when he got back one of the guys would step on his back. He could picture the sensation and relief of the weight on him, cracking any bones that were tight with pressure.  
  
God, he missed the guys. Alex was so close yet so far from seeing them. He was getting antsy, mind brimming with everything he wanted to recount about the trip to them.  
  
Looking around, Alex knew the street he was at. He had biked by it everyday on his way to school in the 90's. It was a route he followed religiously, and went from his home to Luke's to Bobby's to the beach by Reggie's house. Everyday he had rode to their houses, picking them up one by one before heading to school altogether.  
  
But that was before Luke dropped out of school and ran from his family, before Reggie started staying progressively more with Bobby and Luke as his parents' arguments grew- that was before the three of them died.  
  
A cathartic desire coupled with sadness filled in the pit of his stomach and he found himself looking in the direction of his home.  
  
Since meeting Julie, he hadn't checked to see if his family home was still there. Even despite the prompts to do so by Reggie and Luke, Alex had never found himself wandering back home. But now something in his gut was wanting him too.  
  
Maybe it was because he was alive- er partially alive- and it was a chance to come to terms with everything, or maybe it was because he wanted things to return to normal- to stop changing so fast. Maybe it was showing him another way on a path he initially believed had only one route?  
  
Realistically- selfishly, he didn't have to go back to Julie and the boys. He was for the most part alive and kicking, something that was probably impossible in both the living and dead world. If God was real like his parents had instilled into him, then maybe it was God giving him a second chance- not the malicious workings of Caleb. It could be his chance to start anew.  
  
But would it work?  
  
It was unfair to expect his parents, much older and more jaded by life to welcome their previously dead son in with open arms. They couldn't even come to terms with his sexuality let alone that he had practically been raised from the dead looking not a day passed 17.  
  
Besides, he didn't want to put them through that, no matter how strained their relationship had gotten in the 90s. Alex had no clue what they did after he died, but he knew they grieved. Everyone, regardless of stance towards the one they lost grieves. It was part of the human condition. Some grieve in anger, others in denial, others celebrate, and some, like Luke's parents, never really stop grieving.  
  
No matter which his parents did for him, he had to respect it. Grieving could not be reversed, it stayed with a person in the dark corners of their memory, waiting to be brought back up.  
  
Painfully, despite his heart wanting otherwise, Alex looked away from the possibility of his family. He turned towards the coast, the vast ocean peeking out from the spaces between skyscrapers. The coast was where his new family was, the place where people were waiting for him and where he wanted to go.  
  
Even though he felt the pain in losing the opportunity to make amends with his family and redo life, there was comfort in his decision.  
  
Something told him he was doing right and that he wouldn't regret it.  
  
His eyes trailed down from the coast, falling towards the streets and smaller buildings in front of him. Cars zipped by and people hurriedly shuffled past each other, and yet through the bustle Alex's eyes landed on a sign. A large blue sign with white font plastered at the front of the building.  
  
 _Sally's Coin Wash_  
  
He never ended up making a list on this so called trip. Too consumed with the idea of dying or getting lost, he had let his anxiety rule the past couple of days. Thinking back to Willie, he imagined what his friend would say.  
  
You've got nothing to lose.  
  
If he was on a trip, he should make a list, shouldn't he?  
  
Alex walked into the coin wash, hand barely staying solid for the amount of time it took to enter.  
  
Nobody was in the building since it was close to dinner time and people were returning home from rush hour, and Alex was admittedly grateful for that.  
  
He was doing what the girls had said, but it didn't mean he was going to suddenly develop a confidence powerful enough to strip with ease in front of prying eyes.  
  
Heading to a washing machine, Alex set down his bag and opened the round door.  
  
With a quick look around to ensure that he was alone, Alex unbuckled his fanny pack, placing it on a machine parallel to his. He proceeded to remove his pink hoodie, followed by the undershirt underneath.  
  
The cool air of the air conditioner brought goosebumps along his skin but he paid it no mind. He repeated the process for the lower half of his body, slipping his torn up shoes off and removing the rest.  
  
If the boys saw him now, stripped to only his boxers and socks sitting in a coin wash of all places they would stare in disbelief before suddenly- and with an oddly surprising lack of reluctance follow suit.  
  
He threw his clothes in, inserting the coins Em had given him. The washing machine roared to life and began filling with water and shaking semi violently. Alex pushed himself up onto the washing machine parallel, watching the machine fill.  
  
His entire body was tense, shoulders hitched high, arms wrapped around his abdomen protectively. Alex had no clue how those girls had done it, attributing it mostly to the confidence boosting dynamic they shared.  
  
What had Em said?  
  
You're there and then you're not?  
  
Glancing down at his hands wrapped firmly around his torso, he watched as his body made quick but short flashes of nothing, fading from sight before returning back a little more faded than before.  
  
She was right, but not in the way she had meant. Alex was there- alive but he wouldn't be for long. So who the hell was going to notice if he was half naked in a coin wash? He would be completely invisible in the next couple of hours. Who cared?  
  
Slowly, Alex unfurled his arms, resting them on the top of the machine. He took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth and let his heartbeat slow.  
  
A small sense of power filled his heart. It was stupid, getting a power rush just by sitting on a washing machine in his boxers, but it felt nice. He felt like he could accomplish anything, tackle any issue with confidence rather then anxiety. All from one silly list involving a coin wash.  
  
A smile broke out on his face, and he ran his fingers through his hair, letting a bark of laughter escape his lips.  
  
Settling in, he pulled his last granola bar out of his bag and opened it.  
  
It was safe to say that when it came time to dry his clothes he took his time.  
  


* * *

  
  
Fully dressed, basking in the clean scent and warmth pressured into his clothes, Alex buckled his fanny pack back up, taking a deep content breath.  
  
He assumed that by now his appearance looked more like a trick of the eyes then a solid living being. The brief image of himself in the window showed the hazy figure of a teenager flickering in and out like a dying candle. By now he was probably more ghost then alive, although his body still ached like hell.  
  
His assumption was confirmed when carefully he walked through the door and right through a man passing by.  
  
The man kept walking totally oblivious to Alex's intrusion of person space.  
  
Alex couldn't hide the small amount of disappointment. There was perks to being alive and seen. He got to experience the flavors of food once more, got to be touched by others, and he had been able to meet people. From the trucker, to the girls, and the lady, they had all talked to him- given him a chance and helped him when they didn't have too.  
  
Alex knew he wouldn't be standing back in LA had it not been for their kindness. He had gotten lucky in his encounters; stumbled upon people who offered their services even when they didn't have too. The world was much more then what Alex had thought it to be- filled with more good souls then selfish ones.  
  
The trip had changed his view on life- on people- on himself. Change was okay sometimes, and while he still had much to learn about accepting it, in a way the trip had taught him to dance in the rain.  
  
Waving goodbye to the oblivious man, Alex started to run. He let his feet guide him as he ran down the streets, a light hop in each step.  
  
Tall buildings turned into suburbs draped under palm trees and he rounded the corner of a hedge, jogging down rocky steps that led to the comforting sight of a garage turned studio.  
  
The studio doors were closed as Alex approached, but he instantly recognized the familiar sounds of a guitar, bass, and a piano that echoed from inside.  
  
Excitement bubbled within and Alex found himself tapping the sides of his thighs in rhythm with the instruments. The flow of music enveloping his every waking thought, washing all any residue worry he may have had.  
  
Right now it was just Julie and his boys.  
  
Whatever came next? He could handle it.  
  
Alex, feeling as free as could be walked through the doors, an expression worth a million words on his face.  
  
"I'm back!" 

* * *

  
  
_"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."_ -Alan Watts  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My grandmother passed away from Covid just an hour after I wrote the portion on grieving. I stand by everything I've written about it.
> 
> Stay inside please, and stay healthy. It's all I can ask.
> 
> When here on this confusing chaotic world, live- but make sure you let others too.


End file.
